The Course of History
by NightshadeIllusion
Summary: A story following the adventurers of two wanderers set to be Tamriel's greatest heros. Set in both Morrowind and Oblivion, the plot follows the storyline of both games. Firstly Morrowind, then Oblivion . Side stories also cover the tales of several NP


_Author's note: Oblivion and the Elder Scrolls are owned by Bethesda._

_This fic takes place in both Morrowind and Oblivion. It firstly follows the Morrowind Plot, but will later lead to follow that of the Oblivion games. Knowledge of the two games is recommended due to the many side stories that are hidden within this fic. coughLucienLachancecough_

_This is my first ever fic, so reviews/hints/tips/comments are greatly appreciated. I'd love to know what you think. This is not necessarily 100 to the two games. _

_Thank you._

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**1: The Red Mountain**

The wind howled through the narrow valley, red sand obscuring the sun so naught but a dull, glowing ring in the sky remained. Beneath Lucius' feet the lava roads that had burnt through the valleys many years ago when the Red Mountain last erupted had been worn smooth by the sand-storms typically found within the Ashland region of central Vvardenfell. It was one of those sand-storms that made his travelling hell at that very moment.

In silence, he walked along with his hands in his pockets and head down. Thick black dust from the road clung to the worn boots that reached his knees, even kicking up enough to splatter the trousers he wore. Made from a thick, black silk-like material they were just as well worn as everything else he wore; evidence of them having been repaired clear due to the mismatched stitching along the side.

Though Lucius himself was silent, the things he carried necessarily weren't. Every other step had the tip of the long sword, hanging from his right hip, clink against the tops of the boots. The dagger on the other side of his belt also had the same effect to some extent as it made a 'thud' against the cuirass that had him sounding like some sort of Dwemer machine as he trudged on. Like the boots, the leather was peppered with scratches and the ship stamped onto the front was almost invisible. The blue shirt, and plain gloves weren't much either… The only part of his attire that wasn't looking like it'd been six feet under before he found it was the scarf that was drawn over his head and mouth in a feeble attempt to keep ash from blowing in his face. With the wind as strong as it was, the sand bit at his face painfully even through the the thick cotton as he squinted to avoid being blinded. How the Dunmer and Altmer coped with it, he didn't know. All he did know was that, at the current moment in time, running into anyone would be a god-sent. After all, water had ran out hours ago and he was very much thirsty now the storm had trapped the heat in the air.

Pushing matted brown hair from his eyes, both of which were a dark blue, he turned on his heel to walk backwards a few steps then hopped skipped to face ahead once more.

So, the Bosmer still stalked him?

Lucius had thought that his shouting might have been enough to have her wander off and leave him be, but clearly not. Still, it wasn't like Indrel could follow him forever. Though Lucius was short for an Imperial, the slightly tanned wood elf was much shorter. Lucius' marching stride was obviously giving her a tough time keeping up but, he mused with a smirk, it served her right.

Served her right for getting them lost, and for destroying his map with her fancy _party_ tricks.

Another glance not even a minute later showed the robed woman was still at it, beady brown eyes glaring a hole through the glittering road as she stumbled on behind him.

It was true Lucius looked out of pocket, but compared with most he looked more or less average. Indrel, however, made him look like a pauper or a lost cause.

The bow and quiver of arrows across her back were the first pointer to wealth, and added with the gold trimmed robe and the stupid _(for lack of a better description on Lucius' behalf) _fur helmet on her head that served no purpose but to hold the dark blonde ringlets from her face, it was more than clear she had money... or did, up until recently. The Imperial was still in disbelief as to why he ever even agreed to allow her to travel with him.

Guilt, he'd told himself. _'Drunk'_ was what he was thinking now, because looking back only someone off of their head would out up with a training alchemist and enchanter following around at their heels.

A yelp as Indrel stumbled once more finally had Lucius stop, and half-sighing, half growling _(at himself for being human and caring, even if just a little bit)_ he folded his arms as he turned round and watched Indrel find her feet once more.

"Finished examining the dirt, yet, have we?" he called sarcastically, voice carrying more than he liked in the barren valley. It's echo told him that within the five minutes of thinking, the wind had died to a murmur. Still, it carried the sand relentlessly through the air giving the illusion of the sun setting.

"I wasn't!" she muttered in a feeble defence as she dusted down her robes and re-adjusted the helmet. Watching, Lucius made a note to get hold of it and burn it. He'd seen people with odd dress senses, but the Bosmer truly took it too far sometimes... That said, he'd seen the dress of the Ordinators and often wondered how they moved in all of it. To an ex-legionnaire who'd fought in battles (or petty skirmishes, to be more precise) the excessive amount of cloth and charms was in no way going to help a man swing a sword about. The helmet would help with view either… People often criticised the Nordic choice of fur armour, but it was definitely a lot more practical.

"Could've fooled me" he said dryly, rolling his eyes as his hands went back in his pockets and he shifted so that the wind battered his back and caused it to sting as the sand hit his neck. He wasn't normally one for bitterness, but at the moment he was annoyed.

"I mean-" he continued, head cocked to the side as she pouted and listened, "-you spent what was it? Half an hour? An hour maybe, picking _stupid_ bloody flowers! Then, you go run off like some Imp on Moon Sugar and get us lost. Does this look anywhere like the Grazelands to you? I can tell you, I certainly don't think it is!"

Now, it was Indrel's time to argue, but she did so more bluntly in a voice that grated on the Imperial's nerves and made him think about changing his plans of burning the helmet to simply feeding it to her. Sure, she was a mage and he knew nothing about magic save that it made people into right pains, but she wasn't exactly a genius. Nor was she quick, and Lucius had the advantage of experience.

"For a starter, they were'n' bloody flowers! And, anyway, I thought we were getting nearer... I thought Wickwheat grew in the Grazelands so-"

"So maybe your right, maybe your wrong, but no need to go nose down to the floor and throw sand into one of your little pouches so you can poison some poor soul in whatever village, town or city we actually do get to" he finished, smirk returning as she made a faint 'Hmph' and made a show of turning around to straighten the helmet yet again.

Her semi-strop didn't last much longer though and whilst Lucius went to staring into space once more, she caught up with him and jabbing him in the arm to continue. And, continue he did.

Once more unspeaking, but this time at a slower pace, the two travelled till a dead end forced them both to stop.

With the sand storm having more or less died down completely now, there was no need to shout. Still, Indrel did as she pointed out the blatantly obvious to him.

"It's a dead end…" she said, jaw dropping in manner that would have had Lucius laughing had he been in a better mood. At the moment though, it was going to take a lot to have him laugh.

Pulling the scarf down from his face, he shook his head to get the sand from his hair and frowned.

"You don't say…" he muttered, tugging at the scarf a second time to loosen it before he simply gave up and dropped his hands to the side as he examined the steep stone cliff before them. Climbing would be tricky, but it would save going back the way they'd come. Having come all this way, he wasn't about to do that. After all, they wouldn't be here if they had the map…

He pushed the thought from his head and ground his teeth as he marked out the best route up the slope. Finding one, he gave the Bosmer a smile.

"Not a dead end unless you make it one" he said, then more reassuringly. "It'll be easy. I've done this a million times before".

"You don't say" she mocked, giving the slope a hesitant look before she shook her head. Lucius almost thought she was about to walk back. Indrel didn't though, and instead simply moved to standing in front of him.

"You can go behind me. That way, if I fall, you can catch me" she declared, starting up the same route Lucius had spotted.

"You are kind" he muttered sarcastically in response, rolling his eyes as he waited till she was so far ahead before he began to clamber up behind her. The sword made it difficult to move at first, but he soon learnt how to step without it tripping him over so that he slipped and grazed his hands.

Though normally a good climber, it took him longer than usual, due to the hindering weapon, to catch up with the Bosmer mage. By this time, she was almost at the top.

"Not slipped yet?" he called jokingly, laughing at the face she pulled over her shoulder as she reached the peak and stood up, hands on her hips as she scanned around.

"Not as much as you have" he taunted as he almost lost his footing once more. A faint laugh, and she turned to examine the road on the other side.

"You forget we wood elves can climb. My parents were from Va-"

Her shriek was the only warning the Imperial got as she suddenly ducked. The black, four legged insect like creature that had leapt at her only just missed. Before he could roll to the side, the Nix hound was upon him and he was falling backwards; the world turning black as he hit the ground once more.

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**-1: One Drink Too Many /FlashBack/**

"Lucius!"

He rolled over, covering his head with his arm to muffle the noise.

"Oy! Lucius!"

This time, the source of the shouting grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, forcing him to open his eyes and then shield them. It wasn't exactly bright in the room, and the orange glows from the candles were more or less shielded by the figure, but by Akatosh his head hurt.

"What?" he grumbled, unpicking the other's hands from him and sitting up slowly. So, he was still in his uniform? That explained why he felt so heavy… At least the chain mail was lighter than his previous armour though, and someone had been kind enough to take his boots off for him and throw them on the floor by the bench. Probably himself, now that he thought about it.

"…didn't do it… Are you even listening?"

Snapping his head up Lucius frowned, realising he wasn't. The other didn't seem to care though and simply snorted as he grabbed the bench behind him and pulled it forwards, the wood grating against the flagstones before he sat down. He was dressed in the same padded red doublet as Lucius, the black circle with two waning and waxing moons embroidered onto the front marking him as one of the guard of Skingrad. Beneath it, the chain mail shirt poked through and the leather shoulders had been polished so that they almost gleamed. With his neatly cropped black hair, the other Imperial had Lucius looking like a sack done up in the middle… he wouldn't be the only one either.

"Sorry, Lucian" Lucius muttered, stifling a yawn as he swung his legs over the edge of the bench. He really needed a drink… and food. If he remembered correctly he hadn't eating since breakfast the previous day. Hopefully he hadn't missed it.

"No worries, no worries…" his friend chirped, grinning stupidly as he leant back with a chinking of metal. "I was just saying about that Nord, you know… Sjarn?"

"Sjorvar"

"Yeah… him. Sjorvar Bear-Arm. Well, you know how those murders were going on, rumour is that someone found him last night with a corpse. The night shift dragged him in before sunrise, and the Captain says that there's no way he'll be able to deny that he's the killer. They're sentencing him in two days, apparently"

Looking blank, Lucius snorted. It was high time they were doing something about the crimes. They'd gone on far too long… still, hadn't they already interviewed the Nord? He had perfect alibis for all of the other killings. It was just too suspicious, and he couldn't help but voice that to Lucian. The other simply laughed though, jumping up quickly to have the hung-over Imperial flinch then growl.

"What? You suddenly pissed or something?" he asked sarcastically, frowning as he got to his feet as well and pulled on his boots.

"Well, no, I handle my drink better than you and you know it" Lucian teased, then broke out into a grin that made Lucius suddenly feel as if he was about to regret even asked.

Lucian continued, doing a little march around the guard room as Lucius fetched his dagger and quiver of arrows from beneath the bench.

"Captain said_ exactly_ the same thing to me, minus the point you made about Gaston Beanique being a prick, but more or less the same thing. _That_ is why he wants _us_ to go to the Imperial Water-front".

Between searching for his bow and finding it hidden in the corner, Lucius had switched off slightly. He caught the last line though, and his shock was definitely genuine.

"Your bloody joking! Right?!"

"Nope" was the answer he gained from the smug looking guard who then added, "He wants us on the road by lunchtime today. Horses are ready for after breakfast along with some stuff… should get there by dawn tomorrow if the weather is fare".

Discovering he'd not missed breakfast; Lucius visibly perked up and smiled for the first time that morning.

"That is, however, bearing in mind you remember how to ride a horse" he said, moving to the door and grinning over his shoulder before darting from the room; the echo of his laughter filling the guard house.


End file.
